Take My Scars (An America + Lithuania LEMON)

Some more Yaoi for you guys! This happens to be one of my all-time favorite ships in Hetalia: Axis Powers so enjoy!

"Mr. Jones?" the young Lithuanian called out in search of the man he was working for. "I...I have your coffee!"

There was no answer, which could only mean one thing; he had either left without telling him or he was out in the backyard. He knew that Alfred had been doing some cleaning in his basement, so perhaps he was going to take a break?

Toris Laurinatis was employed by Alfred's family as their personal servant and had been working for them for about a month and a half. He was from Lithuania, and he sought refuge in America from his abusive lover back home. The first thing he needed was a job, and he got average pay being the Jones family servant. 

He was a particularly handsome young man of nineteen with shoulder-length brown hair and green eyes that had hints of sadness in them. Though his introversion often got the best of him, he was still very sensitive with a kind heart. Inside, he was struggling to try and forget about his horrible past of physical and mental abuse, as well as a history of suffering from inhumane violence and brutality.

Toris walked out to the backyard with the tray of coffee, still trying to find Alfred. He saw the young man of the same age sitting on the wooden bench facing an elaborate, tranquil garden that was small but aesthetic. He walked over and smiled shyly at the young blond man sitting down.

"Ah, there you are," the Lithuanian said. Alfred looked up at him and smiled at him grandly, as he always had. He was always so fun-loving and cheerful, even completely childish at times; nevertheless, many people liked him.

"Thanks!" Alfred said, adjusting his plain, clear-lensed glasses higher up on his nose bridge as he took his cup of coffee. Toris nodded, and as he made his way to the house, Alfred turned his back and watched him.

"Hey, Toris!" he called out. The young servant walked back to the bench and stood prim and proper as he waited for his next task. Instead, he saw Alfred pat the seat next to him.

"Come sit with me. Take a break for a little bit," he insisted, still patting the seat next to him on the wooden bench. Toris nodded shyly and did as told, looking over at Alfred, calculating him and his outward appearance.

Alfred was quite handsome himself, and he had a carefree, fun-loving personality besides having a ridiculous addiction to hamburgers and soda. He had dirty blond hair with an ahoge near the part in his hair, and his eyes were sky blue. He wore glasses that were both functional and stylish, making him look as sophisticated as people would expect a young man of nineteen to be. The sun seemed to gleam off him as he took the first sip of his coffee, and Toris smiled at him. Alfred looked over at him.

"Hey, sorry if I'm delaying you from chores," he told the Lithuanian. Toris shook his head.

"It's perfectly alright, Mr. Jones," he replied with a smile that faded quickly.

"Just...from now on, call me Alfred," Alfred said as he sipped his coffee again. Toris looked at him and blinked.

"Oh," he said. "Alright."

"You've become my friend now," Alfred added, trying to give him a reason why he didn't have to use formality with him. Toris nodded, looking at the oleander shrub between the pastel pink peony bushes. He took in a breath of fresh, dewy spring air as he looked ahead at the small garden area.

Alfred took another sip of his coffee and looked at Toris, intrigued by the misery hidden behind his verdant, seemingly jaded eyes. Unbeknownst to him, the most recent years in Toris' life had been so full of anguish, both mental and physical, and to huge extents at that. He had been mistreated, misunderstood, underestimated, and a victim of circumstance. Fleeing to America to start a new life was his only hope. Unfortunately, Toris was deeply discouraged at receiving a letter from his lover begging him to come back with the promise of treating him better. He did not want to go back to Eastern Europe; he wanted to stay and enjoy his new life, his new job, and any new opportunities that would have come his way.

"Toris?" Alfred asked. "Is everything alright?" The Lithuanian sighed, thinking of the letter.

"Everything is fine," he responded. Something is on his mind, Alfred thought, keeping his sky-blue eyes on him.

"Toris, please," the young blond man pleaded kindly, moving a bit closer to him with his coffee in hand. "I don't know if I've ever told you this, but you can always feel free to talk to me about anything. Anything at all."

The Lithuanian looked at Alfred, his green eyes widening ever so slightly at his statement. Nobody had ever cared about him, nobody had ever been kind to him, and nobody ever tried to become his friend. He looked at him and sighed.

"Well," he began with a sad tone in his voice. "I guess things are not that easy." He had caught Alfred's full attention at that moment. 

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking at him as he started to speak. Toris got up from his seat and walked away, his back facing Alfred at a reasonable distance. Alfred watched him, hearing faint sobbing coming from the Lithuanian. Within seconds, Alfred rushed over to him and tried to console him, but the sobs seemed so heavy that they weighed his words down like a thousand boulders.

"I...I don't want to go back," he said as his voice cracked. Tears rushed down his cheeks as Alfred stood there to listen.

"Go back? What do you mean? What happened?" Alfred questioned. Toris sniffled and wiped his eyes, but more tears continued to roll down his cheeks.

"I can't face him anymore," he cried vaguely.

"Who?" 

"Ivan," Toris finally said after a throaty gulp and a moment of undisturbed silence.

"Is he...your lover?" Alfred questioned.

"Yes," Toris answered, beginning to cry. Alfred took the Lithuanian into his arms and let him cry on his shoulder, patting his back gently. 

"Hey buddy, it's alright," the blond man said with deep sympathy. He sighed for a moment. "What happened?" 

"I...I...I received a letter from him...two days ago," Toris answered with grief. "He...he wants me to return." He began crying again. "I can't face him anymore! Not after all he's done to me!" 

"Alright, alright," Alfred said calmly, patting his friend's back. "Why don't we go inside?"

Toris nodded with a sniffle, and they walked into Alfred's living room. They both say down on the comfortable ivory sofa and faced each other. Toris breathed so heavily he couldn't speak for a moment.

"Why didn't you tell me about the letter, Toris?" Alfred asked.

 

"Because I...never talk about these things," the Lithuanian said. "It's...it's painful." He wept softly, thinking of his past. Alfred hugged him and rocked him gently.

"Tell me. Tell me about everything that happened to you," he inquired. "I am here to listen. Also, it will help to talk to somebody."

Toris knew it would take a lot of courage not only to tell him what happened, but also to trust him. He knew that if Alfred claimed to be his friend, it didn't necessarily mean he could always trust him or count on him. He began speaking, despite difficulty, and tears began rolling down his cheeks to think of the painful memories.

 

"I...well...I have known Ivan since we were children. We became friends...as we got older," Toris began tearfully. "And then...he...he wanted me all for himself."

"Oh?" Alfred's curiosity grew significantly as he listened to Toris' story.

"Ivan...well..." Tears fell again and Toris' voice cracked. "He forced me to live with him...and work for him..." He sobbed so hard he couldn't breathe. "He...he wanted complete control over me. He wanted me to work for him against my will. And...whenever I tried to escape, Ivan would...he would...he'd..."

Toris' sentence trailed off into the sound of falling tears and heavy sobbing. Alfred held him and patted his back, letting him cry on his shoulder. His emotions could no longer be controlled; he was so broken that he didn't think it was possible for his soul to be mended ever again.

"What...did Ivan....do?" Alfred asked anxiously but calmly. Toris choked up and finally finished the sentence that trailed off.

"He...he beat me," he said, weeping loudly. "He would...cut me...whip me...he did....everything he could...to leave his...mark on me."

Alfred's eyes widened and he held him again, encouraging him to let his emotions pour out. Toris continued to weep and cry as a replay of the distressing memories showed itself in his mind. 

"Toris, I am so sorry," the blond man told him. "That's terrible." The Lithuanian continued to cry heavily, but wiped his reddened eyes with the clean white sleeve of his uniform shirt.

"The last time Ivan tried to hurt me was when I rejected his marriage proposal," he added.

"When was this? Was it in the letter?" Alfred asked, his arm around Toris' shoulder. He shook his head slowly.

"No, it was before I came to America," he said. "He...he forced me to marry him, but when I said no, he...he beat me up very badly and...whipped me. Then, well...he...he violated me."

"He what?" Alfred asked with disbelief.

"Yes, he raped me, and it wasn't the first time it happened. I have had it happen many times. He did it every time. He even...did it when I slept sometimes," Toris said, a distinct frown on his face.

"Jesus," Alfred muttered under his breath with sympathetic incredulity. He sighed and looked back into Toris' verdant, sad eyes.

"Well, you are always welcome to stay here if you wish," Alfred said. "I am willing to open up my home to you...and...to keep you safe from him. You won't have to deal with him anymore."

Toris' face lit up only a little bit, looking at the blond young man. No one had ever been so kind to him, not had they ever had the decency to open up their home to them. He smiled sadly and hugged Alfred tightly.

"Thank you, Mr. Jones. I...I am so grateful," Toris said with deep gratitude. Alfred hugged him, patting his back gently. 

"Don't thank me. I'm only doing the right thing," Alfred said. 

They had a moment of mutual eye contact, not letting anything distract them. Suddenly, their faces leaned into each others and they kissed briefly. Tori's blushed, feeling emotions that seemed to have been locked away for a long time (at least since Ivan's first romantic advance toward him). Alfred looked at him and saw the blank, blushing look on his face.

"Toris? Are you ok?" Alfred asked, caressing his face gently.

"Yes," he answered with a shy, morose smile. "I...I have never been so happy in all my life. That's all."

"You're...happy with me?" Alfred asked. 

"Yes...I...I love you," Toris told him nervously. Alfred's face lit up a bit, and he smiled at him, holding him close.

"I...I love you, too, Toris. I...I would give up my life just to keep you safe," the American replied with sincerity. 

Toris' tears of sadness turned to tears of happiness as the two young men embraced once again. The Lithuanian blushed, Alfred kissing him gently and slowly. He accepted the kiss and wrapped his arms around his neck, moaning gently as they locked lips.

The kiss became more passionate, and before long, the two men were in Alfred's bedroom, making out with each other against the wall. Alfred was kissing and licking Toris' neck gently. Toris panted and sighed as his nails dug into the fabric covering Alfred's back. That was his cue to remove his shirt to expose his lanky, but somewhat muscular frame. Toris kissed him passionately, channelling strong emotions into Alfred as tears continued to stream from the corners of his eyes.

 

Before long, the two young men were on the bed, caressing and kissing each other, but Toris kept his shirt on the entire time despite his temperature rising. Alfred, finally realizing this, looked down and unbuttoned Toris' clean white shirt, but he stopped him.

 

"What's the matter?" he asked. Toris sighed, and started to cry again.

 

"You...you can't see me like this," the Lithuanian said with tears emanating from his eyes, turning on his side. Alfred placed a hand on his clothed arm.

 

"We can stop, if you want," Alfred suggested.

 

"No," Toris sobbed. "I...I am ugly."

 

"Why would you think that?"

 

Reluctant to answer his question with words, Toris undid his dress shirt and discarded it, throwing it on the floor with his back facing Alfred, whose facial expression was a mixture of shock and deep concern. A good percentage of Toris' back was scarred, bruised, cut, scabby; it were as though Toris' view of himself were to be true. However, Alfred saw beyond the scars and knew deep down that he was a brave man for putting up with a harsh man like Ivan. Without saying a word, Alfred ran his hand nervously over the scars on Toris' back and starting kissing the damaged flesh.

 

"Ah! Stop! Please! No one can ever love me for this," Toris begged, crying as he felt the American's lips caress his secrets. Alfred kissed nearly every inch of his back, and made his way back up to the nape of his neck.

 

"I'll love you no matter what. You are still you, and I love you for who you are," Alfred whispered. Touched by his words, Toris wiped his eyes and turned his head to share a passionate, fiery kiss with Alfred, who reached in the front of Toris' slacks to unbuckle them and take them off. The Lithuanian helped Alfred take off his, too, and before they knew it, Toris was on the bottom of Alfred with their lips in a captivatingly beautiful kiss.

 

Alfred kissed down his neck, trying to find his sweet spot. Toris sighed gently, but gasped when he started kissing the area where his neck met his shoulder. His fingertips ran down the smooth, warm skin of Alfred's defined back as the American kissed and sucked at his sweet spot repeatedly, making the Lithuanian arch against Alfred as he pleased him.

 

"Ah! Alfred!" he sighed, continuing to moan as the temperature between the men grew to an almost sizzling height.

 

Alfred moved lower, kissing all over Toris' chest before kissing and licking his flat nipples. The Lithuanian liked the feeling, and ran his fingers through Alfred's hair, removing his glasses and putting them on the nightstand for him. Alfred continued at his nipples, making Toris moan gently as he travelled down to his flat, lanky abdomen before finally taking off his boxers. Toris blushed significantly as he felt Alfred's hand stroke his member.

 

"Hmm," the American groaned, looking at the size and girth of the Lithuanian. When he licked the tip, Toris jerked up and sighed, panting loudly.

 

"Alfred!" he exclaimed with pleasure as he started to lightly suck up and down his shaft. Any part of Toris' member that Alfred couldn't fit in his mouth he stroked using a twisting motion activated by just a flick of the wrist. Toris jerked his head back onto the white fluffy pillow and ran his fingers gently through his hair.

 

"Agh! Ngh!" he groaned, the pressure and speed of Alfred's hand and mouth strokes increasing. He felt his free hand go to fondle his balls, and as he moved his member up, Alfred began sucking on Toris' balls with enough pressure to make him shout and scream in ecstatic bliss.

 

"AH!" Toris yelped out in pleasure. "It feels so good!"

 

"It does?" Alfred asked, giving his mouth a break so he can stroke him. Toris nodded, and Alfred sucked him until he came in his mouth. Alfred swallowed every bit of it; tastes so good, he thought as he tasted the salty, but sweet taste of Toris' seed.

 

Alfred kissed Toris on the lips again, and there was no fight for dominance during their time together. They really loved each other and Toris was very happy to be in good hands. the Lithuanian knelt upon Alfred's request, and he went at kissing the long, deep scars on his back once again. For once, Toris felt loved and accepted, not abused and rejected; for this he was very grateful, and with every kiss to his lips or body came a moment where he felt even closer to and more in love with Alfred.

 

When Alfred removed his own pants, he did not bother to stick his rock-hard erection into Toris just yet. Instead, he held both of his buttocks and started to lick his behind, making the Lithuanian gasp with pleasure.

 

"Ah! Alfred!" he sighed, gripping the bed sheets as he received pleasure from Alfred. He fondled his buttocks as he licked deeper into his hole. Toris, on the other hand, panted and his heart raced significantly.

 

"Alfred! Oh, Alfred!" he cried out in ecstasy. His tongue flicked at his butt wildly, causing a foreign fire to burn with intensity within Toris' loins. Alfred didn't necessarily taste anything, but his licking was only a start to when he started putting fingers inside of him. The sensation of Alfred's digits entering his rear made him moan even louder than ever before.

 

"Am I hurting you?" Alfred questioned, thrusting his finger in and out of Toris.

 

"No, I'm fine," Toris replied shyly with a streak of red across his face.

 

The walls of Toris' rectum felt rather strange on Alfred's fingers, but the stretching sensation of the outer part with the digital thrusting felt and looked better. As Toris moaned, Alfred stroked his own member, gradually working up the point to where he was close to coming. To prevent coming so soon, he stopped thrusting his fingers into Toris, and kneeled behind his raised buttocks, thrusting into him gently.

 

Toris gripped the bed sheets, adding to the messy arrangement of the sheets. Alfred sighed and bit his lower lip, thrusting into Toris' ass slowly, going in and out with an even amount of pressure as he held the sides of his butt.

 

"Oh," Toris moaned.

 

"Feel good?" Alfred asked. Toris nodded slowly, still blushing and panting.

 

"Yes. You can move now," said the Lithuanian.

 

Within a matter of moments, Alfred's member sped up inside Toris, both men moaning loudly from the pleasure they were giving and receiving. The Lithuanian rested his head and shoulders forward on the bed, liking the increasingly powerful thrusts going in and out of him.

 

"Ah....oh....ahh...ngh...ooh," Toris moaned repeatedly. Alfred went a bit faster and harder inside of him, hitting the  sweet spot he was looking for. The Lithuanian began to shout and scream in ecstasy, tossing his head back in the air as his hands crushed the fabric of the bed linens.

 

"AH! OH!"

 

"Toris! Oh my god!" Alfred shouted, leaning down to share a quick kiss with Toris as he thrust in and out him, repeatedly hitting his sweet spot.

 

"I feel so alive!" Toris exclaimed.

 

"I'm going to come!" the American warned.

 

"I am, too!" Toris answered with a loud moan to accompany it.

 

Moaning each others names, they both came. When Alfred pulled out of Toris, he saw some of his seed drip out of the hole. Within a few moments, both men were laying down, facing each other as they kisses, caressed, and looked into each other's eyes.

 

"I love you, Toris," Alfred said. Toris smiled shyly, but it was laced with happiness.

 

"I love you, too, Alfred. Very much," he whispered with his thick Lithuanian intonation. Alfred caressed his face gently and kissed his forehead.

 

"Toris, you may feel free to live with me," Alfred told him. For the first time in a long while, Toris showed teeth in his smile.

 

"I wouldn't be happier any other way," he said, planting a gentle, tender kiss on Alfred's anticipating lips.

 

Before they fell asleep together, Alfred told Toris; "you will never have to deal with Ivan again as long as I am around."

A Pervert's Fantasy (A Prussia + Hungary LEMON)

WARNING: May include some bondage! Don't say I didn't warn you!

"I hate you, Gilbert," Elizabetha said to him as he held the leather riding crop firmly in his grasp. The red-eyed German looked at her and laughed sinisterly as he snapped the leather strip on his palm.

CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!

"Vat do you vant, Elizabetha? Don't tell me you don't know vat is going on inside your head!" he teased crudely as he stared at her stripped-naked form tied up.

She was tied up in such a way that even her private areas were exposed for him to see. Her hands were behind her back, her legs were tied apart as if in a gynecologist's chair to give Gilbert a good view of her womanhood, and her nipples were hard and upright due to the slight chill in the dark, dim room. She rolled her eyes at the German and shook her head, struggling to move in the tight collar.

Gilbert, on the other hand, was a sight to see himself, and he was scantily clad in an outfit made entirely of thin leather. He wore no underpants, leaving his member to stand erect through the gap in his open leather chaps, and two leather straps with metal buckles crossed over his chest to make him look more intimidating. This was a success, for Elizabetha was taken from her home, stripped completely, and tied up in a weird, strappy contraption. This was a pervert's fantasy.

SNAP!

"Ow! What are you doing, Gilbert?" Elizabetha shouted, responding to the riding crop striking her bottom. "That hurts a lot!"

SNAP!

"Stop that! I mean it!" she repeated, the same distressing shout. The German looked down at his member, beginning to stroke it hard and fast as he stared at her distressing expression. Then, it turned to disgust--what the hell is he doing, she asked herself.

Suddenly, he grabbed her head, clutching her light brown hair tightly as he shoved his erection into her mouth. She screamed, gagging as his cock went in and out of her orifice.

"Oh, ja! Zat feels good! No vonder my brozer loves sadistic porn!" he giggled, moaning in pleasure as his member made Elizabetha's cries of disapproval turn to quiet, but audible throat gags. Once he went faster, Elizabetha started gagging so much she let out a few strained coughs. She kept shaking her head to free herself from Gilbert's tight grasp, finally getting his dick out of her mouth as she coughed heavily from him gagging her with his erect member.

"You idiot! What are you doing!? Sto--"

It began again, and Elizabetha's eyes widened as her breath was prevented and it was practically thrusting in and out of the hollow of her throat. Gilbert cackled sadistically at the sensation of her warm, wet mouth.

"Ooh! Zis is awesome!" he groaned, the evil grin still on his face as he felt an even better sensation. "Ooh! Looks who's going to cum!"

Elizabetha's eyes widened upon hearing him, and once she felt his liquid seed pour into her mouth, she spat it out on Gilbert, expressing her disapproval. However, on her tongue it tasted OK, so she swallowed some of it until gasping in her response to him beginning to lick her slick, hot folds.

"Ah! Gilbert! Ahh!" she shouted. He stroked her clit with his index finger, looking up into her eyes with his bright red eyes full of sadistic lust.

"You're all vet, Elizabetha!" he said, sticking a finger inside of her. She winced and moved in her strappy binding, trying to make him stop.

"Stop! I'm warning you!" she shrieked angrily.

"Varning me? Vhy? It's apparent you feel awesome, too!" he said, his finger going deeper as he sucked on her bundle of nerves gently. Elizabetha couldn't help but moan; it actually did feel good, but she hated Gilbert so much that she didn't want to show it. However, she was failing miserably as he sucked her harder and harder with each passing minute as his finger dug into her anterior wall.

"Gilbert! I.....hate....y-you!" she shouted, intense pleasure concealed in her voice. He stopped and stood up, shoving his member inside of her. It was without warning--Elizabetha didn't like this.

"Ah!! Stop! It hurts!!" she exclaimed. Her arms seemed to have minds of their own, wrapping around Gilbert's collared neck spontaneously as he thrust in and out of her roughly.

"It's so much better inside of you, Elizabetha! Admit it--you like vat I'm doing," he told her.

"No! I do not!" she shouted, still holding him close.

"You are holding me, and zat is ze only logical giveaway!" Gilbert contradicted.

"Am I?" she asked, looking into his red-violet eyes.

"Ja!" he told her, laughing as he kept going in and out of her. Elizabetha felt more pleasure, but resisted it to the point where she started screaming.

"Gilbert! Ah!!" she moaned, panting breathlessly. "Stop it!"

"You moaned my name! Zat's it! You like it!!" he responded, going deeper inside of her as he wrapped her legs around his waist.

"It's so hot and vet!" Gilbert finally said moments later. "It must feel good to you!"

"No!" she lied. "I hate it! Stop it!"

"I zink you do!! Don't deny it!" he commanded, whispering in her ear. "You are turned on by my awesomeness!"

"No!" she repeated for the umpteenth time. "Stop!"

"You're getting tighter around me! Ja, you are!" he cooed, moaning loudly from the pleasure Elizabetha's liquid heat gave him. She experienced a sudden rush of ecstasy, and found herself shouting.

"Stop...I'm going to...I'm going to--"

"Vat are you going to do, lieben?" he asked. "I know vat I am going to do--I am going to come!"

"No!!"

"Ja!"

With that, another dose of Gilbert's semen came in contact with her body, and it was inside her. Elizabetha hated the feeling of being dominated, but she knew she couldn't run and hide; she was bound in an awkward position. Gilbert kissed her cheek and smiled at her deviously.

"Guten nacht." Those were his final words before leaving the Hungarian woman bound in the room, awkward position and all.

Just Brushing Her Hair (A Fem!Gerita LEMON)

First yuri lemon...hope you enjoy!!

"Monika!" the young Italian girl called out, holding her ornate cameo hairbrush as she tried to undo her braids. The German woman in the other room walked in, having just dressed in a white tank top and a clean pair of training pants. She groaned with irritation.

"What is it?" Monika asked, rolling her eyes as she saw Feliciana sitting there at her vanity table with one braid undone and the other without its tie, but every strand was still intact.

"Can you brush my hair, please?" Feliciana asked with blushing cheeks to compliment her smile.

"Can't you do it yourself?" she asked. Shieße, she thought, walking toward her friend, can't she ever do anything herself?

"Monika! It just isn't the same when I do it! Please?" the Italian girl pleaded. The German woman groaned and shook her hair, undoing her other braid and gathering all of her auburn-brown hair to brush it gently. As she brushed with gentle strokes, Feliciana seemed to enjoy it very much.

"Vee," she moaned in a cutesy voice.

"This is why I cut my hair short," Monika said, looking in the mirror at herself as she brushed the auburn locks of her Italian friend. As she brushed the long tresses, the German girl looked at her own hair; it was cut unevenly, though as a little girl, she had her light blonde hair in braids. As a teenager, her hair was loose but held back with a headband. However, to be more like her brothers, she cut all of her hair off and it had been that way ever since. Monika considered herself a strong woman; she really was, too, both in the mind and body. 

Monika, like many German girls, was very tall and robust with large breasts and wide hips. She also has an unusual amount of physical strength for a woman. Her eyes were as blue as her brother Ludwig's, and with him, she shared her light blonde hair. Monika also dressed similarly to her brothers, often wearing a tank top, training pants and combat boots.

She continued to brush her friend's hair, looking at Feliciana's pretty, relatively petite frame sitting on the stool. She was wearing a springtime ensemble with a white top that laced up in the back and a dark red, voluminous skirt that reached her knees. She had a warm, honey-like skin tone, especially after harvesting tomatoes with her sister Lovina in the garden all day in the sun. Her eyes also reflected warmth with their amber-brown shade, and she was always so happy with a smile on her face. At the same time she was very sensitive with tender emotions, her feelings often getting hurt if Monika or Sakura didn't want to spend time with her or if her sister Lovina was making fun of her. 

As Monika brushed Feliciana's hair, she unknowingly brushed the only curl on her head. In response, the girl moaned sensually. Monika was annoyed, and thinking it was a knot, she tugged at it with her brush, and in a flash Feliciana jumped into her arms, hugging her as her lips crashed onto those of the German woman. Her icey blue eyes widened, her cheeks blushing as she received the kiss. She pushed her away, wiping her mouth afterwards.

"Heilig sheiße! What the hell is wrong with you, Feli?" Monika snapped, an aggravated look on her face. Feliciana's face looked as though she were on the verge of crying, frowning as her friend grew frustrated with her impulsive advances. She looked down at her feet and looked up at Monika, not saying a word as she hugged her, resting her head against the woman's large breasts. The Italian girl placed her hands on the woman's large breasts, but Monika, knowing that Feliciana was emotionally sensitive (also the fact that Monika liked her), she only blushed.

"Feli," she said, liking the feeling of the Italian's touch. Feliciana was amazed by how large Monika's breasts were.

"They're so big," she said happily. Without question, Monika crashed her lips onto her friend's, her arms snaking around her waist as he held her tightly. Feliciana moaned gently, but broke the kiss to assess Monika's feelings.

"Aspetti," she said. "I thought you were mad. I'm so sorry, Monika. It's just that you kept brushing my curl and whenever someone touches it...I-I-I go crazy." Monika put her index finger to Feliciana's lips, causing her to blush as the Getman took her closer to her buxom body.

"Honestly, I thought there was a snarl in your hair," she admitted, blushing with a smile. "I...I didn't expect for you to like me as well." Feliciana's eyes widened.

"R-Really?" the Italian asked.

"Ja, to be honest, I really like you Feli," she said. Feliciana smiled happily.

"I'm so happy," she said cheerfully.

"Aren't you always?" Monika asked.

"Not in the same way as when I'm with you," Feliciana admitted, going on her tiptoes to kiss her cheek. 

Monika looked at Feliciana through her shining amber-brown eyes, leaning down to kiss her gently. The Italian girl returned the kiss, fondling the German's breasts through her shirt. She loved their size and the feeling of them, and it made Monika moan upon feeling her touch.

Feliciana helped Monika remove her tank top, then her bra; when the cups came off her breasts, the Italian looked in amazement. Monika seemed so masculine for a woman, and the Italian didn't expect to see such a womanly figure on such a tough, seemingly manly female. Just after going to the bed, Feliciana leaned forward and began sucking the German's neck and full breasts, fondling the unattended one as she moaned loudly.

"Agh-"

"Your body is so beautiful, Monika," Feliciana said, kissing and sucking on her nipples gently. She rolled the pink buds between her teeth gently, flicking her tongue over them.

"Ah! Feli!" Monika took the opportunity to play with her curl to excite her even more. Feliciana, at an instant, took off every inch of her clothing and laid back toward the end of the bed, spreading her legs as her fingers stroked her newly wet folds while her other hand fondled her breast.

"Monika! I can't take it!" Feliciana moaned. 

Blushing red from the unexpected sight of Feliciana pleasuring herself just after she finished stroking her curl, Monika removed her boots, pants and socks and crawled over to her, kissing her thighs before she moved up to her breasts. Feliciana was petite and feminine compared to Monika, but Monika still found her attractive. She kissed her bosom with a feather-light touch, licking her nipples and applying a bit of suction.

"Ah! Vee~" Feliciana sighed with pleasure. Monika continued at her breasts for a total of five minutes. Then, she moved up to Feliciana's lips and kissed her. The Italian laid below the German, and enjoyed the feeling of her Iron Cross pendant tickling her chest.

"Ich liebe dich, Feli," she said. Feliciana smiled and blushed.

"Yay!" she answered. "Ti amo tanto."

Monika's fingers trailed down Feliciana's breast, down her stomach, down the front of her pelvis, until they reached her womanhood. The Italian sighed gently as her friend's fingers teased her clit and her entrance. She could do nothing but beg as she felt herself become wetter by the minute.

"Monika! Ah!" she moaned.

"Feel good?" Monika asked, stroking her a little firmly.

"Sí," the Italian answered, moaning from the ecstasy of her touch. Within a few good moments Monika lifted her fingers to her mouth and licked them, tasting her friend's juices as she cleaned them with her tongue. Liking the taste, the German lowered herself to Feliciana's femininity, kissing and caressing her thighs before lightly brushing her wetness with her tongue.

"Ah!" the Italian groaned.

Feliciana enjoyed Monika's tongue lingering in the area between her legs, and she arched her back with a moan. When she felt herself being licked from the bottom to the top at a teasingly slow pace, she began gripping the bed sheets. Monika moaned to make her feel a vibrating sensation aside from the fact that she liked her natural flavor.

"Monika! It's so good!" Feliciana said, trying not to buck her hips too much. The German put her lips to work by sucking on her inner lips and tugging them gently, shortly before taking her clit into her mouth.

"Monika," she sighed. Her name became a sacred chant; she knew she loved her very much. Monika continued to suck and lick Feliciana until, without warning, she inserted a finger into her wetness.

"Oh," Feliciana moaned, feeling the digit enter her.

"Est ist so eng," Monika said with a slight groan, inserting another finger inside of the Italian. Feliciana grimaced, feeling herself stretch with the entry of her two fingers. Monika looked up at her, kissing and sucking at her inner thigh as her fingers went in and out of her. As Feliciana gasped and panted in ecstasy, Monika rubbed her sweet spot repeatedly, sending waves of pleasure through the girl's body.

"Monika! Ah!!" she shouted. "I can't get enough!" 

The German continued to stroke her sweet spot, flicking and sucking in her clit while doing so. Without warning, Feliciana came all over her tongue, prompting her to lap up the uniquely tart taste of her juices. Monika moved up and sucked on Feliciana's breasts before kissing her lips, allowing her to taste her own juices. The Italian moaned, and they broke the kiss to look into each others eyes. 

Suddenly, Monika went off the bed and went to her bag near the bureau. Feliciana looked over curiously to see why she had left briefly. Then, the German put on a strap-on, which was really large in size. Feliciana looked at her as she walked to the bed and laid down. In order to get the Italian to do what she wanted, Monika kissed her while stroking her curl, and within a few seconds, Feliciana got on top of the strap-on dildo and put it up inside her.

"Ah! Monika! It's inside me now!" she shouted ecstatically as she rode her at a slow pace. Meanwhile, Monika enjoyed the sight of her breasts bouncing up and down as she rode her.

"Enjoying yourself?" Monika asked, placing her hands on the girl's hips.

"Sí! Molto! Sta sento bene!" Feliciana screamed. "Ahh!!"

Monika reached up and placed her hands on the Italian's breasts, their fingers entwining as she moaned heavily. The German then took her on her back and thrusted deep into her with the dildo, wrapping her legs around her waist. Feliciana loved the pleasure and craved it, sucking Monika's breasts again.

"I can't...take it! I'm going to come!" Feliciana said. 

"Do it!" Monika said. When it happened, the German took the strap-on off and licked it clean, letting Feliciana taste her own juices again. Within minutes they were laying on the bed together, caressing each other's breasts and faces gently.

"Feli?" Monika said.

"Sí?" Feliciana asked with a blushing smile.

"I...I want you to be my girlfriend," she said. The Italian's face lit up with joy, and they exchanged embraces. 

"Sí! Ti amo!" she said. "By the way, thank you for brushing my hair."

"Anytime." With that being said, they fell asleep in each others arms.

Until We Meet Again (A France + Jeanne LEMON)

Notice: Your feels may explode, for this is probably the saddest pairing in all of Hetalia. Enjoy, here's hoping you don't cry TOO much!!!

"Non! Pardon! Don't hurt me! Please!!" Jeanne pleaded, on her knees in front of the fully-clad guards in metal armor. One of them chuckled in a cruel fashion as tears began streaming down Jeanne's face. She had just been thrown into prison, waiting indefinitely for her ultimate fate. She had been stripped of her body armor and the men's clothing she wore in order to dupe the French troops that she was a man who would lead them to battle, and was dressed in woman's clothing for the first time in quite some while. Leading the French to war was one of Jeanne's major accomplishments, but being a woman, she had rely on the voice of God to help her do what she wanted most; when she led the French, it was a significant victory that most thought only a man could achieve. 

"You think you can just deceive people just because God told you to! I seriously doubt God would lead someone to turn to heresy," the guard said, withdrawing his sword and pointing it to her chin. "After all, God made womankind from a rib. A single rib."

"Je suis innocent! I never wanted to go against conformity! Please! Believe me!" Jeanne pleaded, tears falling as she begged on her knees as if she were in church. Her eyes looked so pleading, but they didn't convince the guards.

"You do not charm me," the guard said, lifting her chin higher with the tip of the sword's blade. "I still have yet to tell you your sentence; death. At stake. Burning."

"Non! Ne me tu pas!" Jeanne pleaded. "I'll do anything, Monsieur! Please! Have mercy!"

"Your sentence was already declared by His Majesty," the other guard said. "Unfortunately he is a stubborn man. He hates heretics."

The men turned to leave, locking her in her cell as she cried and sobbed. He prayed inside her head for the well-being of Francis, her one true love she had been unexpectedly torn away from. If she knew she was going to die, her only wish was for Francis to go on without her despite its difficulty.

She had known Francis since she was a child, their first meeting being the time she saw saints' spirits before her eyes in an open meadow. As she called out her claims during the run back to her peasant village, Francis' attention was caught, intrigued by what she saw. From that moment forth they became very good friends who forged a companionship that gradually grew closer to the point of love. Before Jeanne lead the French into battle, Francis confessed his deep love for her, mostly grown out of respect for her and her strength. Jeanne, at first, had no clue what to say, but later realized that she loved him as well. 

Now, she was very worried; she wanted to marry Francis, but now that she was imprisoned and condemned to death, that wasn't going to happen. Now, all she could do was pray for Francis' well-being, or at least for her soul to ascend to heaven as she believed it destined to.

After quite some time, the sun set. After the approach of nightfall, Jeanne was wide awake, sitting on the straw cot below the barred prison cell window. Her hands were clasped together as she thought about God; why had he sent her on a mission only to get punished for it? Did he prize her so much that he wanted her to be with him in heaven for all eternity?

Perhaps it is fate, better so, she thought silently.

The sound of her prison cell door unlocking caught her attention quickly, causing her to look up with curiosity. He looked like a guard, and it scared and apprehended her. She got up from the straw cot and took a step back, feeling her heart race with fear.

"Jeanne?" the man asked. "I have come for you." Now, fear had taken up her heart and her mind. 

"Non! Please say it isn't so! It is not morning!" Jeanne shouted. 

"Il n'es pas," the man said. Jeanne collapsed on the stone floor, sobbing heavily as she spoke frantically and morosely.

"Not the stake! Not the stake! Not the stake!" she repeated.

The man knelt next to her and patted her back gently, trying to console her. Jeanne had a strange feeling about him, as if she had known him before. Then his voice became familiar.

"I have not come to kill you, mon amour," the guard said. Jeanne gasped, looking up at the helmeted guard who took it off to show her his true identity. She gasped at the sight of Francis; he had disguised himself as a guard just to see Jeanne with the possibility of being with her on her final night alive. From his long blond hair to his dreamy blue eyes, she was so happy to see him.

"Francis!" she cried joyfully, throwing her arms around him. "How did you--"

"I just came in here, mon cherie," the sensual Frenchman said, taking his metal gauntlet off to caress her face. "I needed to see you." He sighed sadly, looking away with his eyes closed. "I heard that you were sentenced."

"Oui," Jeanne answered morosely. He caressed her face again with a single, gentle stroke that sent chills throughout her body. Nobody was like Francis, and if it were moral, she would give herself wholly to him right there in her prison cell. He looked at her, studying her stern, delicate face, her blue eyes and her short, unevenly-cut blonde hair. He leaned in and kissed her passionately.

Jeanne threw her arms around him, returning his kiss wholeheartedly as the tip of his tongue brushed her lower lip. He anticipated making love to her, but in order to find out if it was the right thing to do, he broke the kiss and looked into her eyes.

"Jeanne, mon amour," he began with a whisper.

"Oui, François?" she asked, caressing his stubbly face gently as she exchanged glances with him.

"Je désire faire l'amour vous," he said. She smiled sadly, but thought about what he wanted. How could they pleasure each other in a prison cell when guards could be hearing them through the door? He leaned and whispered.

"Je te veux," Francis whispered suggestively, removing his plate armor slowly so no strange noises could be heard from outside the door. Jeanne watched him, and when he crashed his lips into hers, she kissed him with all her being.

Her arms rested on his shoulders as he moved lower to gently suck on her neck. She dipped her head back slowly, Francis' fingers undoing the front laces of her ragged garment. Jeanne blushed, breaking the kiss as she let him go to see what he was going to do.

"You are akin to God," she said. "You are the savior to my purity." With that being said, Jeanne removed her garment and let the light fabric fall off her shoulders, exposing her breasts to the man she loved. Francis was emotionally touched by her words, also her gesture, and he immediately clutched Jeanne's waist to kiss the soft skin of her bosom. 

"Ah," she moaned softly, placing her hands on his shoulders as he continued to make love to her with kisses. His hands travelled up to cup them, his palms and fingers squeezing them gently. He ran his tongue over her nipples between soft sucking, making her feel a wave of foriegn, once-sinful emotions.

"Oh," she moaned. Francis continued at her breasts for another few long moments before his lips met with hers in a tender, passionate kiss. He removed and discarded his shirt, allowing Jeanne to caress his perfect male form.

"Tu est beau," she told him. He smirked, kissing her once more before making her lie down, her back against the cool stone floor of the cell. She didn't care if a few chills ran through her body, for she knew it would help her cool down during the heat of pleasure.

Francis leaned forward and kissed Jeanne again, trailing his nose down her neck, breasts, and stomach until he reached her swollen, moist femininity. Jeanne blushed a shade of bright red, but Francis, noticing this, caressed her cheek to reassure her that she would be alright and protected in his arms.

"Don't worry," he said, his fingers starting to stroke her. She arched her back quickly and moaned. She caught herself expressing delight too loudly, managing to stifle the sound in order to not draw attention to her prison cell. His fingers traced her slick folds gently, reaching a whole new level of pleasure for Jeanne when he stroked a certain area.

"Ah! Nh...Francis," she groaned. "It is...trés bien."

"Hmm," Francis cooed, unbuckling his belt with his free hand to release his hard member. He stroked it a bit as his inserted a finger inside of her to see if she was ready for his entry.

"Je ne peux pas prendre plus. I need you now, Francis," Jeanne whined pleadingly. "Dear Lord in heaven, forgive me."

"You will have me," he said, lining his member to the beginning of her entrance. "Are you ready?"

She nodded, and as he entered her, she arched suddenly against him and dug her nails into his sculpted back. She whimpered, tears running down her face as she felt herself being torn. Francis thrusted a few more times, and she nearly screamed. He took the liberty to shut her up with passionate kissing. She closed her eyes, tears continuing to streak down her face as she felt her virginity being taken.

"Are you alright?" he asked, kissing the corner of her left eye. The pain was no longer there, which influenced her to nod.

"Oui," she told him. "You may move inside of me."

Taking her words, he put them into action as he held both of her hips, pushing in and out of her slowly. With each thrust, Jeanne moaned and arched under him, feeling his wispy chest hairs tickle her breasts gently. She reached up and placed her arms around his neck, holding him closer as she pleaded for more.

"Il se sent bon," she sighed, starting to whine. "Harder."

"Oh Jeanne, j'taime," Francis said, leaning down to kiss her lips passionately as the fire in his loins roared ferociously. The power of his thrusts intensified, sending her to an imaginary land of paradise. It wasn't quite like Heaven, for she had seen it before in visions. This was better than Heaven--it was simply too complex and good to describe. 

"Ah! Francis!" she moaned, paying no consideration to her loudness. Nobody was around, and the neighboring prisoners were in deep sleeps in their own cells. She felt her nails scratch his back as he went faster inside of her, but he didn't mind as long as he wasn't hurting her. In fact, he liked that she let out her inner warrioress during their lovemaking. It only prompted him to delve deeper into her liquid heat, hitting a certain spot repeatedly that made her pant for air and moan as she was engulfed with sexual bliss.

"Ah! Francis! It's so good!" Jeanne shouted, feeling as though she were about to climax at any minute.

"Jeanne! Mon amour, I'm going to...cum," he told her.

"I'll cherish it forever. This moment is precious, and for all eternity in Heaven, I'll remember you," she said, crying just before she felt a warm fluid fill her. He kissed her once more, pulling out and laying besides her, caressing her nudity with his fingers. Her skin felt warm and she seemed to glow brighter than the full moon shining through the prison window.  Francis looked down at her, and kissed her, holding her tightly.

"Je ne veux pas vous laisser aller," he whispered. "I will never forget you, mon amour."

"Please do not leave me," Jeanne told him. "I am to die tomorrow, but I am happy to have spent my last night with you." He looked down at her, her eyes shining up at him with pride and bravery.

"Until we meet again," Francis began, "I will never stop thinking of you. J'taime."

Sunflower Fields (A Ukraine + Estonia LEMON)

My newest lemon!! Enjoy!!

 

"Irunya! Where are you?"

 

Eduard heard familiar giggling as he called out her name. The grassy terrain crunched below his feet as he ran rapidly into the field of brightly-colored sunflowers. The sun was beginning to set, and the skyline was becoming a light orange shade that illuminated his environment perfectly. Everything seemed to be so joyful and happy, sharing the same yellow hues as the sunflowers and the setting sun.

He walked around for a few minutes, moving through the crowded, tall plants to track down the sound of laughter. The sound continued, making the young man's heart flutter like a big butterfly in his chest. When he heard a thump, the giggling turned to full-out laughter. Walking a few steps forward, whilst moving a few thick sunflower stems and leaves aside, he saw the Ukrainian girl kneeling and laughing. 

"Silly me! I suck! I tripped!" she howled, joviality still present in her voice. Eduard sat down in front of her and let out a giggle, adjusting his glasses as he studied her carefully.

Irunya Braginskya had been a good friend of his for some time now, but he acknowledged his deeper feelings for her soon after they met. It wasn't at first sight, but it was the fact that he felt bad for her. She came from a poor family who farmed for a living and at the age of twenty, she still lived in her small Ukrainian village. Eduard thought she was a very beautiful girl, of course, from her platinum blonde, chin length hair held back by a few hair clips and a blue bandana. She had bland dark blue eyes, fair skin, and dressed in a homely manner. Today she was not wearing the usual white blouse and pants with suspenders; she was wearing a dark blue, voluminous skirt with a butter yellow sheer blouse which accentuated her enormous, natural bust. Eduard was so intrigued by the contents of her blouse, and it wasn't just this time...it was every time he saw her. Just thinking of their size and fullness when he wasn't in the Ukraine visiting her made him harden to the point where a bulge showed through his pants. Eduard loved her, his emotions intensifying as he noticed a rip on the top of her blouse where the buttons were. He cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow, looking at the area the rip was in so he could convey it to her without embarrassment. 

"Oh dear god," she said, shaking her head with pink, blushing cheeks as she struggled to cover up the hole in her blouse. Eduard protested with his eyes, but also moved her hand away from her large bosom. He licked his lips subtly, Irunya looking at him strangely. She, in turn, liked Eduard but hid her feelings out of fear of heartbreak and rejection.

"Don't...you don't have to hide, Irunya," he told her, blushing violently. Irunya shook her head frantically.

"This is humiliating! On top of it, my big boobies are making my back hurt a lot," she whined. This was not unusual; Eduard was used to this and normally expected it, but he was so desperate to show her he really had feelings for her. Sympathizing with her pain, he crawled over a few inches and began rubbing and patting her back gently. Irunya blushed, but still enjoyed his touch.

"I'm sorry you have pain, Irunya," Eduard told her, his fingers gliding over the yellow fabric that covered her back. She looked back into his eyes and smiled.

"I'm feeling a little better," she told him, relieving him of the thought that he may have been bothering her. He smiled, inhaling the fresh, unusual scent of the tall sunflowers around them. The sunlight added to their strangely alluring fragrance as he inhaled deeply.

"What a beautiful day," he said. 

"Oh? It's nearly sunset," Irunya contradicted.

"I know, but it is still beautiful. Whenever the sun is up, I am happy," Eduard said, looking into her eyes as he began caressing her cheek. "But when I am with you, it is even better." The sound of his voice captivated her so easily--it was like she fell deeper in love with him at an instant. Her cheeks turned a bright, rosy tint as his gentle touch sent chills of joy down her spine.

"Eduard," she said. 

"Yes, Irunya. I really like you," he confessed, leaning in to kiss her. His lips crashed onto hers, and while Irunya was surprised at first, she relaxed with passing seconds as he held her close with his hands on her waist and her arms snaked around his neck and shoulders. Eduard loved the taste and feel of her lips, but he was turned on at the feeling of her enormous breast pressing against his chest. The inseam of his pants grew tighter as they continued kissing. Within a matter of moments, Irunya broke the kiss. 

"I...like you, too, Eduard," she told him, kissing his cheek gently. Smirking, he kissed her passionately, enjoying the feeling of her bosom pressing against his chest. He held her tightly, causing her to moan in their kiss just before he broke it to speak. Irunya stared into his eyes.

"Have you ever been with a man, Irunya?" Eduard asked, causing her to blush a dark shade of red at such a question. 

"Why do you ask such things?" she questioned.

"I am just curious," he replied, looking down at her smooth cotton skirt to feel the fabric. To Irunya, it felt like he was touching her thigh; she enjoyed the feeling, leaning in to kiss his cheek. Eduard, in turn, crashed his lips onto hers with such force that she fell back onto the grass.

Kneeling between her legs, he pinned her skirt firmly to the ground as his kissing drive her wild. She moaned delicately, feeling his hand go to the hole in the middle of her shirt. His grip on the edge of the tear was firm, so he broke the kiss in order to rip the rest of her already-ruined shirt. She squealed in shock, blushing as her sizeable cleavage became more visible. Eduard looked down, caressing the exposed parts of her fullness; he knew they were begging for him to release them from their confines in her bra. Irunya reached to the front of her bra and unhooked the front clasp for him, knowing that he wanted to see and do maybe more to her most well-known feature.

"Here," she groaned lightly, finally unhooking the clasp. "It hooks in the front."

Eduard pulled the cups off her breasts and looked at them, his eyes hungry with insane lust as his hand ran over them. She moaned heavily, panting as she felt his tongue brush her left nipple. She held him close to her, running her fingers through his blond hair as he suckled her. Irunya blushed with a slight bit of embarrassment--he reminded her of a baby taking in milk from its mother.

"Eduard...oh," she moaned, his other hand caressing her other breast with gentle, slow strokes. He moaned as he took her other nipple into his mouth, sucking her wildly and vivaciously.

"Eduard," she repeated. His name sounded more like a sacred chant as she continued rubbing his head. His mouth still feasted lightly on her nipples as he reached up her skirt to stroke her through her panties. She gasped enough for him to notice, and he liked that she was enjoying herself. The thin fabric of her panties was soaked with her juices, especially where he was stroking her. Eduard continued kissing her breasts as his fingers teased her divinity.

"Eduard!" she moaned, blushing madly from the sensations. He smirked, sucking on a nipple before speaking.

"You are so wet," he said. He stopped, leaving her body begging for more of his sweet torment.

"Why did you stop?" she questioned. "More, please!" She was really begging now, and it aroused Eduard greatly.

"Wait a moment," he told her, reaching under her bottom to pull her panties off. Irunya blushed, the undergarment traveling down her skirt slowly as he smirked jokingly. He then leaned forward toward her newly-exposed womanhood, his tongue brushing her folds slowly. She jolted upon first feeling the sensation.

"Eduard! What are you....oh....ah," she moaned. 

He began licking from the bottom of her wetness to the top, slowly as he took his time with pleasuring her. Irunya tried to relax her upper body by laying with her arms spread out, preventing her hips from bucking too soon. When he started sucking her small bundle of nerves, she blushed and arched her back quickly.

"Ed-E-Eduard," she sighed, flattening her back one more time against the warm blades of green and tan grass. The remains of her blouse were still on her, but her breasts were fully exposed, nipples hardened greatly from the pleasure. He reached up, fondling one in his hand, making her gasp loudly.

"Ah!" she moaned. "It's amazing! More!"

"More?" Eduard asked, sticking the index finger of his free hand inside of her slowly. As she moaned, he slid it in and out, her juices lubricating his finger just perfectly as he determined that she was definitely ready for him to go inside her. He undid his belt and unzipped his slacks, lifting the front of her skirt up so he could kneel between her legs and rub the head of his member to her liquidity. He looked down into her eyes, smiling down at her as he pushed himself into her liquid heat slowly. She arched her back.

"Ah! Eduard!" she whimpered, arching her back. He held her close to him, starting as slow as he entered her, going in only so deep in order to tease her and make her beg for more.

"Are you alright?" he asked. Irunya nodded.

"Yes. It didn't hurt too much. You can move now," she told him.

Her arms snaked around his neck as his hands travelled down to her hips, holding them as he went wild inside of her. They moaned together, satisfied with the pleasure they were getting evenly from each other.

"Irunya! It's amazing inside of you!" he shouted, tilting her bucking hips upward so he could hit her sweet spot.

"AH! Вона відчуває себе так добре. Я збираюся оніміли!" she moaned in her mother tongue, her heart racing faster than percussion underneath the Estonian.

"See on kerimine minu ümber," he groaned, speaking his language as he moved faster inside of her. He still had most of his clothes on, but his member was sticking out of his pants. Almost every inch of his body was covered in a thin layer of perspiration. When he felt like he was nearing his climax, he held her close and whispered forcefully into her ear.

"I am about to--" He came inside of her, making Irunya feel a strange, warm fluidity flow inside her. He pulled out of her and looked down, putting his erection back in his pants as he looked down at Irunya. She looked exhausted, her enormous, natural breasts rising up and down in sync with her breathing. 

"Ma armastan sind," he told her. Her eyes widened, looking up at him
"What did you say?" she asked.

"I love you, Irunya," he repeated, leaning forward to kiss her gently. Returning it wholeheartedly, she broke the kiss to answer.

"I love you, too, Eduard," she told him, sitting up to put her panties back where they belonged under her skirt. She then hooked her bra back up, but knew she had nothing on her at that moment to fix her blouse.

"It's alright," he said. "I love how that looks."

"Don't be foolish! I look a mess!" Irunya contradicted.

"Come on. Why don't we call it a day, eh?" he suggested.

With that, he picked her up bridal-style and walked in the seemingly never ending sunflower field toward her small house. This sure was the best sunny day he had ever had in his life.

Leibe ist und der luft (Hetalia Germany + Reader LEMON)

NOTE: If you are easily offended by adult themes, do not read!

This is my first ever fanfiction for Hetalia. Germany aka Ludwig is my anime crush and he personifies my dream man (too bad he isn't a real person). Boo-hoo. Ok, let's get to the good stuff. By the way, "leibe ist und der luft" means "love is in the air" in German.

______________________________

You were sitting on the edge of an old fountain that was constructed entirely out of stone and was quite large in size. Standing in the middle of the water was a a statue of a robust female water bearer with a jug held on her shoulder--a hole was where water spurted out delicately into the fountain. You were waiting for someone very special; someone with whom you shared a mutual love that was passionate and seemingly perfect. It was only a matter of time before you saw him walk toward you. As he joined you on the edge of the fountain, your heart began racing faster than a motorcar--it was Ludwig, a German who was the epitome of masculinity and sternness. His light blond hair was always slicked back, and you constantly urged him to let it loose in public but to no avail. Whenever your eyes met, his piercing blue eyes stabbed into your soul like knives; since you saw it this way, you saw the pain of these 'knives' to be extremely pleasurable. Most of all, you liked his sense of strength, even though he was very serious most of the time. This seriousness, you saw, was one big factor in his devotion to you.

"Hallo, lieben," he said in his thick German accent shortly before kissing your cheek gently. It always baffled you that for such a rough guy his touch was so delicate it made your skin crawl.

"Hi," you said as he moved closer to you and pulled a big bunch of ruby red roses from behind him. You gasped--he never surprised you like this in public.

"Wow!" you exclaimed excitedly. "Ludwig, these are beautiful!"

"Not as beautiful as you, (name)," he told you. You smiled softly, your eyes still fixed on the red roses wrapped in clear plastic wrap. You looked down and saw a red satin ribbon tying the crimson bouquet together.

Suddenly, the sound of running feet on the brick ground diverted you and Ludwig from your precious moment near the fountain. Ludwig looked over and his eyes widened--it was his friend Italy, running as joyfully as ever toward you both. His reddish-brown hair blew in the gentle breeze as he panted upon stopping.



"Germany! Germany! You left me stranded in the bakery! I only wanted to sample the bread and you left me!" he exclaimed in his usual tone. To you, he was always cheerful, and when Ludwig wasn't around, Italy always kept you occupied by cooking delicious food for you and singing songs that made you laugh. You didn't see him as much of a disturbance, but it was ironic that you were embarrassed to kiss Ludwig in front of him; but that was because you perceived Italy as too immature to handle seeing such things.

"No, Italy," your German lover said with an aggravated tone in his voice. "I went to the florist to get roses for (name). Is that alright with you?" Italy's cinnamon brown eyes grew wider--how adorable he was while like this. Then again, he was like your little brother.

"Ah, va bene. Hai preso le rose rossi per la tua ragazza! Che dolce!" he cooed. Luckily, you were a fluent Italian speaker--you understood what he was saying. You understood him much better than you did Ludwig, even though you all had met just two months before. German just wasn't your strong suit, much to your lover's dismay.

"Get out of here," Ludwig demanded, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"Why? Why can't I be with you? (Name) likes when I'm around," Italy said. You smiled at him before hugging Ludwig so tightly you could feel his heartbeat through his clothes. Then, he suddenly stood up and looked at Italy sternly.

"Listen, I am going back to my place with (name), and if you disturb me once, you are rotten liverwurst. Understand?" Ludwig warned with a tone of voice similar to his facial expression. Italy just stood there, and as we walked off, you hear Italy saying goodbye in good spirits.

"Goodbye! Maybe later I'll come and make you two dinner! (Name) loves when I cook!" You giggled softly and continued walking with Ludwig to his place.


When you and Ludwig entered his apartment, you noticed that he looked aggravated and annoyed. His cheeks were red and his breathing was unsteady. He sat on the bed with his elbow on his knee, resting his chin on his fist. Growing concerned, you walked into the bedroom and sat beside him, hoping to make him feel more at ease. Your hands were on his broad shoulder and muscular right arm as your eyes were fixed on his facial expression.

"Ludwig?" you asked. "Are you OK?" He looked at you and sighed heavily.

"I wish Italy didn't annoy me so much," he responded.

"He means well, Ludwig," you reminded him softly. "He's your friend, isn't he?" He took a breath and looked at you with a strange emotion in his eyes.

"Yes, but I wish he wasn't such a pussy, (name)," he answered firmly, trying to get his point across. You looked at him, defensive of Italy.

"Look, I know how you feel but that doesn't give you a right to be like that," you told him. He took another sigh.

"Well, alright," he said with a calmer voice. Your eyes met, and you could feel those piercing blue eyes stab through you. Caressing your cheek gently with his rough, calloused hand, he leaned in an kissed you tenderly.

You moaned softly as your tongues met in a dominance fight, which Ludwig ended up winning. You gasped upon feeling his hand fondle your breast through your shirt, which gave him the opportunity to dart his tongue in and out of the hollow of your throat, making you moan louder. He broke the kiss and looked at you with solemn lust in his eyes.

"Lie on your back, (name)," Ludwig commanded as though he was a military sergeant talking to a soldier. You raised your eyebrows and looked at him, curious about his motives for telling you to do so.

"How come?" you sassed. This left him no choice--Ludwig crashed his lips onto yours, kissing you so fervently you fell back on the bed with a thud. Breaking the kiss, he looked down at you.

"I want you so bad. Forgive me, but I can't wait anymore," he told you seductively with his thick German accent. You thought for a moment; you were a virgin, and as for Ludwig, you knew he had had made love with a girl before. Curious and willing, you agreed to give into his carnal desires.

"Are...are you sure, Ludwig?" you questioned with a blank stare on your face.

"Ja," he told you, kissing you once more.

As you reciprocated his kissing, he began to unbutton your white blouse which was made of fine, smooth fabric. He threw it aside, and you blushed as he looked down at your bra. You chuckled, but Ludwig looked serious.

"Ludwig?" you asked. Before you knew it, he took off your bra and threw it aside where your blouse was. He leaned down and gently fondled, kissed, and caressed your breasts. You gasped and moaned as if there were no tomorrow, and Ludwig was turned on with each passing moment where you did so.

"Ludwig," you sighed. You chanted his name, your mind caught up in the ecstasy and heat of the moment. His tongue teased both nipples, and it only made you moan and gasp louder. Moving lower, his hand reached behind and you felt his fingers trail down the small of your back as he kissed your stomach and hips shortly before removing your panties. Once your panties were off, you quickly put your hands over your private parts, closing your knees tightly. After he removed all but his underpants, your German lover looked at you with a pout that turned you on ten times more.

"Open your legs," he ordered sternly. "It will not be that bad."

You took in a deep breath; you were so nervous, but when the air finally came into your lungs, you felt comfortable again and enough to allow him to see all of you. You saw him smile devilishly as he leaned down to kiss your hips and thighs just shortly before he started stroking you.

"Ludwig! Ah! Oh my!" you moaned in response to the sensation of his fingers tracing the slick folds of your divinity. Your hips moved around, and you couldn't control it. You heard Ludwig laugh at your reaction as he tasted his fingers.

"Mmm, you taste so good," he groaned, beginning to please you with his tongue. You arched your back, driven wild by his passion. You screamed, moaned, panted--it didn't matter; Ludwig was enjoying himself very much, and even though you were as well, you felt as though he were having all of the fun.

"Ludwig! Oh...it feels so good," you sighed, arching your back as your hips moved uncontrollably. He held your hips firmly, keeping them still so he could suck on the bundle of nerves just above your entrance. You began to shout and scream, but when he tried sliding a finger inside of you, you felt a sharp sting.

"Ow!" you cried. Ludwig's attention was caught by your pain.

"Are you OK? I'm not hurting you, am I?" he wondered caringly. You sighed with your eyes closed and looked at him.

"I don't know if I ever told you, but...I am a virgin," you said. "Please be gentle."

Nodding, he pulled off his underpants, revealing his member--he was hung like a horse. He had a sizeable girth and it was about 9 inches long. The thought of something that big entering you made you cringe; you could only imagine how much it would have hurt for a virgin like you.

"It's so big," you told him. He smirked and kneeled between your legs, holding his member to guide it into you. He rubbed the tip up and down your wetness before sliding into you gently. As he came down closer to you, your nails dug into his back ravenously as you whimpered in pain.

"It hurts. Take it out," you begged in agony. He thrust it in two more times before saying anything, despite that you had bled on him.

"No," he protested. "It will get better. Trust me."

You nodded slowly, closing your eyes as he thrust in and out a few times more. He crashed his lips onto yours, kissing you to distract you from the pain of losing your virginity to him. You moaned once the pain was replaced by pleasure, and your nails were no longer digging into Ludwig's back. You heard him groan in deep satisfaction.

"Mein gott," he said under his breath. "Ihre muschi ist so eng. Es wird auf meinen schwanz kauen!"

You had not a clue what he was saying, but nevertheless, to hear Ludwig speaking his mother tongue in a moment of ecstasy turned you on. You arched against him, and he moved lower to your neck, kissing and sucking on the sweet spot he had found when you started dating.

"Ludwig! Oh my, oh yeah!" you cried, feeling his member hit a certain spot inside you. You realized you were closer to your climax, and you began to shout even louder than he.

"I can't...take it! I'm going to die!" you screamed. Ludwig gripped your hips tightly as he came inside of you. He pulled out and held you close on the bed with him.

"Ich liebe dich, (name)," he told you, kissing your cheek gently like he had earlier that day.

"I love you, Ludwig," you told him, resting contently in his arms for the rest of the afternoon.